


Pain Is Beauty

by orphan_account



Series: Secrets, Lies and Tragedy [1]
Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Abuse, Dark Ali, Dark Thoughts, Gen, Implied Bulimia, Implied Sexual Abuse, Minor Alison DiLaurentis/Emily Fields, Poems, Self-Hatred, implied eating disorder, ode to my bitch face, olivia gatwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 07:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13026183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Loosely inspired by the poem Ode To My Bitch Face by Olivia Gatwood





	Pain Is Beauty

"What do you want to be when you grow up, Alison?" The wives all ask with sweet voices. But I can smell the booze on them, drowning their husband's infidelity in vodka bottles. As my father's business partner stares at me hungrily, as my brother laughs at one of his friend's 'conquests', as I remember catching this woman's husband with the babysitter, I only have one answer. "A lesbian."

They all roar with laughter. Later I'd learn that being a lesbian isn't fashionable (at least not yet, not in Rosewood). I don't like sport or flannel shirts or want a haircut like Ellen DeGeneres so I scribble 'Lesbian' off my Bucket List.

At age 7, I change my answer to something a little more respectable. "I want to stay young forever." I start replying with my head held high and the stubborn streak still there. My mother purses her lips, but prefers this one to the last. After all, anything's better than being lower than filth. Better than waving the rainbow flag in everyone's face just because you can't keep your damn mouth shut about your new lifestyle choice. It pisses my Dad off so much every time Ellen comes on. Imagine letting a lesbian have her own talk show! What has this world come to?

**XOXO**

It doesn't take long to realise what men want. They hardly shut up about it. Mostly sex, but beaten by a woman smiling at you so you can look at how pretty she is. Out of spite, I don't. For all of my brother's friends whose vocabulary don't contain the word _no_ , all the college boys who take your skirt to mean _own me_ , all the men who look at women like they're meat in a Butcher's shop.

"Come on, give us a smile." The man says wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I know what my mother, father and brother would say. What society would say. (Sit there and let him look at his pretty little doll.)

I shove him into the drink's table with a glare. Then I walk over, so I'm hovering over him and give him my middle finger. "No need to be such a bitch." He scoffs. On the ground, but still that smug smirk that screams _you're mine, I'm in control._ "No need to be such an ass." I retort leaving him powerless with red wine and cider all over his white shirt on the ground. On my way out, a mother pulls her little girl out of my way. The girl fights her grip and smiles up at me.

"You're my hero." She whispers earnestly. I smile back flatly, and see myself in her blue eyes. Already, men are starting to take notice of her good looks. "Don't you forget it." I reply with all the confidence I don't have.

**XOXO**

I'm dancing in the club with Emily. She's a lesbian, a real life one. But she's different, instead of waving the rainbow flag in everyone's faces, it's hidden out of view. I tell myself I'm glad and crush the feeling of pity.

"Nice moves, babes. Maybe we can carry on the party in my room." The man says. It's not a question exactly even though it's phrased like one. It's an undertone of a demand, a suggestion leaning on the _yes sir_ side. "Sorry, we don't go anywhere with gross, creepy old guys with BO. So if you'd excuse us, we're trying to have a good time which clearly doesn't include _you._ " I say sweetly with a fake smile. It's cold and sharp, not like the little girl's smile. Now that's a real smile.

The man sniggers, like I made a joke. Like he's surprised we haven't dropped our panties right here on the dance floor.

"I was looking forward to getting 2 for 1, but I'll settle." He shrugs grabbing Emily's arm. A burst of some unknown emotion rises and I pull Emily away from his rough hands before I had a chance to stop myself. "She's not going anywhere with you. Move along, douche." I snap. "Please... Just go." Emily begs quietly. Huffing, the man storms off to his laughing friends defeat in his eyes.

Good.

For the rest of the night, Emily clings onto me like I'm her life-line as we fight through the sea of men. Her eyes portray innocence that I hadn't seen in years. Even Spencer's eyes held the same childlike innocence, a mix of flattered and confused by the men's advances.

**XOXO**

My mother brought me up on salads, and brought my brother up on burgers. We go to McDonald's and my mother orders an iced tea for me, nothing else. _The food here's unhealthy, Alison, we can't have you looking like that Hanna girl._ In the same breath, asks Jason if he'd prefer a Big Mac or a Chicken McSandwich. Jason speaks up in defence... Of Hanna.

That day, my trip to the bathroom is eventful. A girl sees me in the mirror, sees the expression of pure self-hatred and beckons me over.

 _It's okay, I'll teach you a trick to make you feel better. You want to be thin, don't you?_ By the time I've left, my throat is sore and I'm a little shaky. But no pain, no gain. I feel confident for the first time in a long, long time. My mother narrows her eyes and tells me we're going to have to buy me a bigger pair of jeans next week.

**XOXO**

_It's okay, I'll teach you a trick to make you feel better. You want to be thin, don't you?_ I tell Hanna as I hold back her hair. Even as I do it, I feel a sinking feeling in my gut. I realise it's guilt. Hanna chokes slightly on her vomit and I soothingly rub her back. _Let it out, honey. You can do it._

Looking back, it's the biggest mistake of my life. Even worst than the Jenna Thing. In my head I name it the Cycle of Hatred.

**XOXO**

The man comes into my room uninvited. His tongue doesn't need an invitation and my body is already his for the taking. My body is sandwiched between his unrelenting body and the bed under me. Trapped and powerless just like all those woman married to cheating husbands, in fact like all the women with a man's attention on her.

His hands are rough between my thighs. Stubble rougher still against my chest.

I close my eyes and dream of a world run by women. A world where any man is burned at the stake. Where young girls hold keys normally at night, and not as a weapon. This world I dream of, has me without my weapon of words and hatred but with a smile where I am at last, restful. His cruel laughter ruins any allusion of peace. Because that's what men are, cruel and unforgiving. They destroy lives without remorse and instead, with laughter as the world burns at their feet.

Months later, I gather up the courage to tell my parents. For a second they're silent, staring at me like I'm tainted. No longer their perfect little daughter and replaced with a monster.

 _But what were you wearing?_ My father asks. _But how were you looking at him?_ My mother asks.  _ **But he made you cum.**_ I tell myself and I hear my brother's voice defending his friend. His friend who would never once touch his little sister without his permission.

**XOXO**

 "What do you want to be when you grow up, Ali?" Aria asks me during a game of Truth or Dare. I smile fleetingly. "I want to be the Queen of the World. Maybe I'll even let you join me." I say a spark lighting in my blue eyes as I think of it. Five Queens, side by side men dying at our hands. Their last words all, _I'd still do you._


End file.
